Chapter 18
?
Who needs emotions in a relationship?
Maelin
“Do we like each other?” Zakery asks the second he’s closed the studio door behind us. I’ve barely been able to decide where I want to sit for this conversation.
I turn to find him with his hand locked in his hair, his eyes lowered, and his brows puckered.
“That is to say, I might like you. The fun story Viktor told us earlier leaves me to question the validity of that assumption, but I think it’s possible. I don’t know for how long I’ll like you if I do, so don’t feel any obligation to return the potential. It’s just…” He looks at me. “Do we like each other? Is there a way for us to find out? Or, I suppose, assuming you like me, are you willing to explore those feelings even if my feelings for you either dry up eventually or never fully exist? If you think you might like me a great deal more than all the reasons you shouldn’t, I’m certain I can at least learn to treat you correctly consistently. I love my brothers even when I don’t always like them. They rarely elicit any manner of emotional response in me, but I keep loving them anyway. I could keep loving you anyway, too. If you wanted me to. Would that…be okay?”
I stare at him, speechless.
“Did you…zone out on me?” he asks, gently. “Do I need to repeat myself?”
My head shakes. “I…” It’s been a night . The entire dinner, my neck blazed , and I swore everyone could see the place Zakery had kissed me like it was a brand on my pale, pale skin. Now he’s nothing short of confessing to me. And I don’t know what to do with any of it.
For as long as I want, he is offering to love me?
All I can come up with is: “Aren’t things moving a little fast?” I’m still getting over a breakup, aren’t I? I could be one of those people who takes years to get over someone.
Never mind that I don’t think I am.
Never mind that the only emotions I feel toward Harry now are a sense of hurt and irritation. I hate myself for my stupidity more than I can bring myself to hate him. I am angry, and I did love him, but if he apologized to me now and offered any logical explanation to back his behavior, I wouldn’t want him back.
It’s too late.
Too many instances of other problems in our relationship are clear to me now.
We weren’t good for each other.
I am over Harry.
If a near perfect stranger can treat me with more honesty, kindness, and respect in a matter of weeks than that man gave me in our entire seven years of knowing one another, I think it is more than safe to say I am over him .
“Fast…” Zakery murmurs, dropping his gaze as he nods. “Probably, yes. I’m uncertain what I feel for you. All I know is that I’d like to experiment more with being near you, romantically…” He lifts his hand, stares at his open palm. “I’d…like you to be closer to me, too.” His fingers close. “And if we could talk, all night even, about anything, everything, I’d like that, very much.”
I’d also like that very much. Too much, probably. All I can think to say is: “Are we still planning to go to the Creator’s Ball together? I…think I’m over Harry, so there’s no real point for me to show off, but you’re still invited…so…it’s not exactly avoidable for you.”
“I’m not over Harry,” he says. “I want to watch him snap so I can have security drag him away, kicking and screaming like an infant. That will, personally, make me feel better.”
Oh.
Um.
Okay.
“I won’t argue with that. If you need closure.” I still don’t think we understand what that word means, but it’s fine.
“I do. Thank you.” The touch of a smile lifts his lips. But it vanishes just as quickly as it came. “I’m sorry I’m like this. I wish, even if it took longer to confirm, I could offer you more certainty where my emotions are concerned. But I just can’t.”
Emotions.
Emotions are useless to me.
I much prefer transparency. While emotions are fickle and flimsy, honesty and responsibility are a foundation I can get behind.
I’m not a child anymore. I’m not a crushing teen with stars in her eyes. I might still be young, but I’m old enough to know that stability means more than romance and flutters. I want to be with someone who never makes me guess or question. I want the peace found in a mutual agreement rooted upon the definition of love that Zakery holds.
Whether he feels it or not, so long as he acts with its definition in mind, I don’t think I care.
I manage a deep breath. “I want a relationship built on trust and support. I don’t need flowery notions or feelings. Are you offering that?”
Something in him brightens, and he closes a foot of distance between us. “Yes. I am.”
“Just to make sure I’m following, you’re offering commitment, regardless of how you feel, with the understanding that exploring this might cause me to feel something you never will?”
“Essentially, yes. There are parts of your character that I value well enough to want to keep you in my life, so while others have allegedly fallen for me before, I bore no compulsion to hold onto them. I enjoy your creativity. I find you amusing. I like to paint you. You enhance my quality of life. I appreciate your existence, so I would like the opportunity to keep it near mine.”
I appreciate being appreciated. “So, if I agree, we won’t be fake dating anymore? We’d be real dating?”
“Were we ever really fake dating, or were we just getting to know each other with a loose intention to present ourselves as a couple in front of your ex in the hope he might throw a fit? As far as I can tell, we have been real spending time together in order to fake the appearance of a relationship with romantic entanglements come the Creator’s Ball. Real spending time together seems a whole lot like dating. For realsies.”
That…is true enough. I fiddle with the lace at my waistline. “There’s a good chance I don’t actually understand relationships as well as I probably should.”
“Excellent.” He warms, smile losing some hesitation. “Neither do I.”
A soft laugh escapes me. “So. We’re in a romantic relationship now?”
“If that’s all right with you.”
I nod. “It…is, yes. To what end, exactly?”
“Marriage, if you find me tolerable enough to pursue permanent relations after a time.”
That is so diplomatic.
It is not lost on me, though, that he’s offering the commitment I once begged for, upfront, without a fight.
I like this.
Quite a lot.
It feels so much safer than whatever I was doing before.
Breathing steadily easier, I say, “Okay. I’ll make a point of keeping that in mind going forward.”
Beaming now, Zakery reaches me and takes my hand in his. “Should I secure an engagement ring? Or is that much too hopeful?”
“You probably should at least wait until you can meet my parents and ask for my father’s blessing before you buy any rings.”
His smile dissipates. “Is that mandatory?”
“Um. Yes.”
He cusses, running his thumb over my knuckles. “And if they don’t like me?”
“Zakery.” I cup his cheek with my free hand. “Harry scammed them into liking him. You’ll be fine.”
“I’m less of a weasel, though,” he snips. “They’ll ask about my work, and I’ll admit to what I do. They’ll ask to see my latest piece, and since all my latest pieces are of you, I’ll be forced to show them an abomination. They’ll cast me into the streets for failing to capture your beauty.”
They’ll think it’s amazing and romantic.
Zakery sucks in a sharp breath. “My tattoos. They’ll hate my tattoos. They’ll think you’re with some thug.”
“My dad has a tattoo.”
“Parents…are allowed to have tattoos?”
“Um. Yes. Last I checked.”
He clasps my hand to his cheek. “But I have a truly egregious number of tattoos. There’s a difference between having a tattoo, and…whatever I am.”
“You don’t normally show off your tattoos. Why start with my parents?”
Incredulity. His dark lashes flutter, confusion rioting. “Maelin,” he says, “I don’t want to lie to your parents concerning the sort of man their daughter intends to marry.”
I have a strong, strong feeling they’ll more than approve. Assuming, of course, we get that far. “You won’t have to meet them for at least a little while, so it’s nothing you have to worry about right now.”
“Ah.” He blinks. “Yes. That makes sense. I’m getting ahead of myself.” Bringing my fingers to his lips, he closes his eyes. “Thank you for taking a chance on me, lowly mortal that I am. I shall seek to serve you with my every breath, that I might be pleasant companionship for you as long as you deem it so.”
Lifting my face, I stand on my toes and touch a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
His fingers graze down my arm, to my waist, and pull me in. Cold silver eyes intent, he murmurs, “It keeps me humble.” His eyes flick to my mouth. “May…I?”
“May you, what?”
“It’s late.” He releases my hand to run his thumb along my bottom lip. “May I try to kiss you goodnight?”
My heart reacts before my mind has the chance. When my thoughts catch up, I say, “For three seconds, yes.”
He mouths three seconds , nods, and connects his mouth to mine.
It is the shortest three seconds of my entire life.